


Grief is harder to bear than vengeance

by serendipityxxi



Category: NCIS
Genre: Episode: s10e12 Shiva, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-02-24
Updated: 2013-02-24
Packaged: 2017-12-03 10:40:26
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 600
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/697381
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/serendipityxxi/pseuds/serendipityxxi
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ziva opens up to Tony after returning from Israel</p>
            </blockquote>





	Grief is harder to bear than vengeance

Tony didn't wake up when his front door was picked open and then quietly shut again. He didn't wake up when his visitor shucked her shoes and her coat by the front door. He didn't wake up when his bedroom door opened nor when socked footsteps padded across the room.

Someone pulling back his blankets woke him though. His eyes flew open but before he could react the scent of her shampoo hit him. His late night visitor nudged him over in the narrow bed. Tony froze as Ziva fitted her winter chilled self into the curve of his body, tucking her head under his chin, her back pressed right up against his chest. Her hair was cool under his chin as she drew his arm and the blankets around her. She shivered fiercely for a moment and then settled her head on his bicep.

"Ziva?" he started to ask what she was doing but she shook her head immediately.

"You should have called, I would have picked you up from the airport," he said instead.

Ziva didn't answer. Her fingers moved down his arm to his hand, twining themselves around his fingers as he had done the last time she'd been in his bed. He was acutely aware of how small her fingers were compared to his own, her chilled skin a sharp contrast to his. He rubbed her hands between his own, offering her his warmth.

"My family is dead, Tony," she finally murmured into the darkness.

Tony opened his mouth to speak but again she cut him off.

"My father was the last and now there is only me," she sighed heavily, "but I am not alone. I know that. I am so grateful for our team. I am grateful to you, for understanding and reminding me of that. I cannot imagine it was easy for you, dealing with me before I left for my father's funeral..."

Tony gave her hand another squeeze. "It's a rough time. I've got your back, Ziva," he assured her. He felt the now familiar zing of panic and rush of pride that being this open with her caused. He liked the feeling, almost as much as he liked the press of her bony little shoulders into his chest, the way his knees fit into the bend of hers.

"Still...I..." she faltered but then forged on with determination. "Thank you, Tony. Thank you for making me realize revenge is not the only way, that the ends do not always justify the means. My father could never see that, in the end he died the way he had lived his life. I do not want to live that life, not any more. Not for a long time," she curled a little more into him. Tony wrapped his arm more snugly around her waist and uncharacteristically held his tongue, he was afraid if he interrupted her she wouldn't get there.

They lay quietly in the dark together in silence for long moments. "Before I left you asked me to open up and told me to act like a daughter who had lost a father," her voice cracked a little here. "I grieved in Israel, not for the Director of Mossad but for my father, the one I remembered, as a daughter not the soldier he forged. Things were not always bad between us, Tony." 

Tony understood that, there were good times with Senior too.

"He taught me to pray," she began and Tony didn't interrupt, didn't make a single stupid comment, he listened raptly as she opened up to him in the darkness.


End file.
